Too Late to Hold Me Back novel Chapter 1118

At the same time, James forwarded screenshots of Mira's massive trades with a simple caption: *From a friend.*

It was an effortless favor, and there was no reason not to claim the goodwill.

More importantly, it solidified his alibi and shielded him from any lingering syndicate suspicion.

Naturally, the account details on the images were meticulously cropped out; exposing their identities was out of the question.

James's phone buzzed with another wave of appreciation: *Thank you, Mr. Barlow. Please extend our gratitude to your friends.

If this play pays off, I'll make sure you're all well compensated.*

Mira couldn't care less about their gratitude, but unless absolutely necessary, she had no desire to make enemies out of Wall Street titans.

Fueled by that colossal influx of capital, the Siamese Baht plummeted to its daily limit, sending the Wall Street tycoons into a state of euphoria.

The following day, everyone expected the plunge to continue. Instead, the daily candlestick chart flattened into a horizontal correction, displaying only a marginal downward trend that left everyone's hearts pounding in their throats.

"Thank god we didn't go all in," James muttered. "Looks like the Siamese Baht won't crumble that easily.

Mark my words, we might have to increase our positions over the next couple of days."

Once James finished complaining, Wesley nudged him. "Mira's strategy is brilliant, isn't it?"

The group chuckled softly.

James didn't quite catch the underlying teasing. "Miss Mercer's strategy is undoubtedly brilliant."

Hank, always annoyed by Wesley's antics, fired a shot. "See that? You tried to mess with him, and it went right over his head. Bet that stings!"

"What are you talking about? Who's messing with him? Calling her 'Boss Mercer' is a sign of ultimate respect. You're just twisting my words!"

Wesley shot Hank a dirty look.

"Still won't admit it? Then why do you usually call her by her first name instead of 'Boss'?"

"So what if I start calling her Boss? I'll do it starting tomorrow."

"Why wait until tomorrow? Do it right now."

To successfully short a target, one needed bottomless liquidity; otherwise, the offensive would stall, turning the attackers into mere lambs for the slaughter.

It was only after this massive top-up that the Siamese Baht finally entered a normalized freefall.

The very next day, Mira ordered the team to dump their remaining ten percent into the market.

That move cemented the trend entirely.

Mira couldn't recall if, in her past life, the trend had stabilized smoothly at this point or if it had spiked again, requiring yet another brutal tug-of-war from the syndicates before finally collapsing.

She decided to observe from the sidelines. The stock market was a vicious beast; if she took a hit, she took a hit, but she had absolutely zero intention of pouring another dime into the trade.

During this critical window, Jude Vance mirrored Mira's trading perfectly, while Vivienne Voss remained comatose in the hospital.

Three days later, the Siamese Baht experienced a violent, unexpected surge. The Wall Street syndicates scrambled, injecting even more capital, but it wasn't enough to throttle the aggressive upward momentum.

"Should we throw in a little more?" James asked Mira anxiously.

If this trajectory held, it would be an exact replay of the syndicates' previous disastrous failure.